Mary Simonsen - Mr. Darcy’s Bite

“Only half?” Jane said, smiling, and she went in search of Charles just as Darcy came looking for Lizzy.

“If you are beginning to think about what you will need for our journey,” he whispered, “make sure you have your gloves, muff, boots, extra stockings…”

“Sir, you have told me what to expect, and I shall pack accordingly. You should really take your own advice and stop worrying. Since my mother has turned our wedding breakfast into a spectacle to rival a harvest festival, I plan to enjoy myself.”

By this time, Georgiana had come downstairs, accompanied by Kitty and Mary. The siblings had already received an invitation from Mr. Darcy’s sister to come to Pemberley in the spring. After nightfall, Lizzy said to herself, and she realized that every plan she made would have that contingency attached to it.

After seeing the Bingley carriage turn out of the drive, Lizzy pulled her shawl tightly around her and looked up into an obsidian sky punctured with a thousand points of light and a waxing moon poised over a distant wood. Although Mr. Darcy had told her that in time the rising of a full moon would not merit a second thought from her, she knew differently. The welfare of her husband and her family depended on her being acutely aware of the moon’s every phase.

“Thank you, Mama,” Lizzy said as her mother tightened her stays, “but Jane and I have already had this conversation.” She could hardly believe that her mother had chosen the morning of her wedding day to have “the talk” with her daughter.

“But you might encounter a very different situation than Jane’s as Mr. Bingley is of a slight build when compared to Mr. Darcy, so…”

“Mama, at this point, there is nothing to be done, and I wish to enjoy my wedding day without thinking apprehensively about my wedding night.” Lizzy gave a silent prayer of thanks when Kitty arrived and handed their mother a letter.

“Oh dear!” Mrs. Bennet said after briefly scanning its opening paragraph. “It is from Lydia. She will not be coming to the wedding after all, as there are no funds to pay for her coach fare. It is too bad that she did not write sooner as there is nothing to be done now.” She continued perusing the letter. “Oh, goodness me! There is more news. Lydia is to be a mother, and she expects to be delivered of her child in midsummer. How wonderful! I shall be a grandmother twice over in the new year.”

Lizzy made no comment. Her sister’s announcement that she was with child should have been joyfully received, but how could it be when it was coupled with the news that she did not have enough money to pay the coach fare to come to her sister’s wedding. As her father had so succinctly put it at the time of Lydia and Wickham’s marriage, “Lydia has married one of the most worthless men in Great Britain.” No good could come out of such a union, and the letter proved it.

But then Mrs. Bennet burst forth with the happy news that Lydia would shortly be coming home, as Mr. Wickham’s regiment was to go to fight in the Peninsular campaign. With Wickham gone, there was no point in Lydia remaining in Newcastle. Although her mother was happy that her youngest daughter would be coming back to Longbourn, Lydia’s sisters were not, not even Kitty, who had learned a lesson from her sister’s mistakes. Everyone understood that with Lydia’s arrival the house would be topsy-turvy once again. But this gray cloud did have a sliver of a silver lining for Lizzy: Mrs. Bennet had left the bedroom to share the good news with Mr. Bennet, and all discussion about Mr. Darcy’s size had come to an end.

*   *   *

Darcy had been up since dawn, and with Mercer gone to see to the arrangements for their journey, he had to dress himself, which was no hardship, except for the damn neckcloth, and he enlisted Bingley’s assistance in tying the knot.

“We are all fools to have that peacock, Beau Brummel, dictate fashion,” Darcy complained. “This thing around my neck is little different from the bows that Georgiana wore in her hair when she was a little girl. Why must it be so complicated?”

“Calm down, Darcy. You know that this has nothing to do with your neckwear. You are a nervous bridegroom, and there is no need to take your frustration out on poor Mr. Brummel.”

“You mock me, Bingley, and having been in my position, what, seven or eight months ago, you should be more sympathetic.”

“I do not recall being this nervous—certainly not about the ceremony. Perhaps you are looking past the festivities to your wedding night.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked anxiously. “What do you think will happen? Will it be unpleasant?”

“Not for you, it won’t.”

“Damn it, Bingley. I am not here for your amusement.”

Bingley found it difficult to suppress his laughter, but since his friend was in desperate need of calming, he told Darcy of his own wedding night, including the darkened room, Jane with the covers up to her nose, his wife lying in their bed as stiff as a board, and fumbling about in the dark.

“But, Darcy, you have to allow that it is a rather curious thing for a woman. Jane and I were not permitted to be alone at any time during our courtship, but on our wedding night, she is supposed to be comfortable disrobing in front of a man? Not likely. You will find that it takes patience and a great deal of talking about love.”

“I am finding this whole business of the terrors of the wedding night to be ridiculous. Why should a woman hide beneath the covers in trepidation of a physical act that has gone on since the time of Adam and Eve? It is a part of the natural order. Men and women were created so that they might reproduce. ‘Be fruitful and multiply.’ It is a Biblical injunction.”

“Is that what you are going to whisper in Elizabeth’s ear? ‘Darling, I come to you tonight by Biblical injunction, so that we might reproduce.’”

And even Darcy had to see the absurdity of his statement. “I cannot wait for this day to be over.”

*   *   *

Darcy decided to follow Bingley’s suggestion and have a glass of wine, and he had just poured himself a tall one when Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived at Netherfield. Because Richard had been unsure if he would receive permission to leave his regiment, Darcy was more than pleased when his cousin entered the room. However, his pleasure was short-lived because right behind him was Antony, Lord Fitzwilliam.

“Oh, God, just what I need,” Darcy said to himself, and he added more wine to the glass.

Antony immediately sought an introduction to Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, and it was quickly apparent why women loved this irredeemable rascal.

“Mrs. Bingley, I had the good fortune to make your sister’s acquaintance while in town, and I thought, what a beautiful young lady my cousin is to marry, but here I come to find that Miss Bennet has a golden-haired equivalent residing in the country.” He continued on in that vein, and although Jane had been told about the black sheep of the Fitzwilliam family and his shameless flattery, she could not help but smile, especially since she was in need of compliments as she felt as wide as a barn door.

As much as he was enjoying the company of the lovely Mrs. Bingley, Antony tore himself away so that he might speak with his cousin to reassure him that he had not come to make mischief.

“Darcy, I promise to be on my best behavior. Besides, I do not think there is anyone here to misbehave with, so I shall limit myself to flirting with Mrs. Gardiner.”

Darcy rolled his eyes but decided it was best not to say anything. It only encouraged him.

“Oh come, Darcy, don’t give me that look. I daresay Mrs. Gardiner enjoyed my winking at her. I do not know of any woman who does not like to be reminded of a time when a man flirted with her. Such little pleasures keep one young. But I have come with only one purpose in mind and that is to wish you joy. Honestly, I did not think you would ever marry.”

Darcy gave his cousin a sideways glance. “Why not?”

Antony looked about to see if their conversation could be overhead before continuing, “Because your wife would have to be a very special person, now wouldn’t she?”

“What are you talking about?” Darcy asked, as he felt his heart quicken. Had Richard betrayed him by telling his blabbing brother of his situation?

“I know that you do not have a high opinion of me, Darcy, and with good reason. You think that I am incapable of keeping a secret, but I have kept yours for eight years.” Following Darcy’s eyes as he looked across the room at Colonel Fitzwilliam, he continued, “Richard did not tell me. It was Anne.” At first, Darcy felt his heart sink, but knowing what an incurable gossip the earl was, Anne must have had a good reason for revealing so dark a secret.

“Do you remember the time when Anne was so ill that she thought she was going to die?” Darcy nodded, and a vision of Anne lying in her bedroom at Rosings fighting for every breath appeared before him. It was only by God’s good grace that she survived. “It was then that she asked me, as the head of the Fitzwilliam family, to take care of you. So I have watched you all these years from a distance, and as far as I could tell, you required no assistance from me. But when I learned from Anne that you were engaged, I was concerned—for both of you—which is why I called on Miss Bennet while she was in town.”

“You have no reason to be concerned on Elizabeth’s account. She knows everything as she has seen me in my altered state.”

“Then I have nothing else to say except to offer my congratulations to you on finding true love,” Antony said. “In my short visit with Miss Bennet, I saw something: a strength of will and character. And I knew that you had found the perfect wife, and I envy you that. But I want you to know that if either of you ever needs assistance, I will be there to help you in any way I can. I also want you to know that I will take your secret to my grave. Not even Richard knows that I know. The less said, the better, even to my brother. Let me conclude by saying how much I admire you. Something like that would have brought a lesser man to his knees—me, for instance.”